


something bitter, something sweet

by xxcaribbean



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Confusion, M/M, Mild Language, Parallel Universes, Realization, Time Travel, younger billy hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: steve doesn't know what's going on with billy, but when he tells him not to freak out, well, that's certainly concerning.or the one where billy hargrove's parallel universe/younger self kinda, sorta time travels.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149





	something bitter, something sweet

**Author's Note:**

> based on the au from hoegrove over on tumblr.

“I’ve got something I have to tell you, and I’m certain you’re not going to be thrilled, so hear me out first.”

Steve cocks his head, ever the optimist except when it comes to Billy. Known for trouble and fucking things up, it doesn’t matter how much he’s cleaned up his mean-streak; when Billy doesn’t like the odds, he’s sure to make up his own. So, in the face of such an admission, Steve gives it a moment, truly feels the cogs turning in his head before he blurts out, “What the fuck did you do?”

“I _said_ not to get mad,” Billy grumbles, but Steve attempts to push Billy aside because he’s in front of a door. One that’s been conspicuously closed the entire time Steve’s been here, and now it’s all he’s focused on as Billy shuffles his weight back and forth between his feet.

“You can’t start with that and expect me not to be worried, Billy. We all know what that means for _you_.”

When Billy grapples for Steve’s shirt, he quickly ducks, fast feet ahead of himself as he gets behind his boyfriend. The door to Billy’s room is white and cracked, shows its age any time it creaks open like an obvious sign of danger. Billy isn’t a danger unless it’s to himself, Steve has learned, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a little concerned.

Curling his fingers around the knob of the door, Steve hears two things. One, Billy behind him, fist wrapped around the bottom of his shirt, tugging like the force is going to sway Steve. And at any rate, it’s not like he truly protests because if he did, Steve really wouldn’t be anywhere near the door right now. Two, there’s more shuffling, more noise behind the door. As far as he’s aware, Steve’s really the only one allowed to visit the apartment - the kids are welcome, so to speak, but Billy is dramatic and tells them he wouldn’t have them over if he could get away with it.

Steve has the final say, and if there’s one thing he’s learned about Billy Hargrove, it’s that he’s got one giant soft spot for one Steve Harrington.

Before he can turn the handle, something drops with a thud, echoing and falling flat. The string of curses behind Steve meld together and then he’s being pushed to the side in a litany of protest until Billy’s the one shoving the door open.

“You little _shit_. I told you _not_ to touch anything.”

Confusion strikes a chord as Steve straightens against the wall. He can smell the clean scent of a recently burned candle and sees Billy shoes next to his nightstand. But other than that, the angle he’s in obscures his vision from what’s inside, from whatever Billy’d been reluctant to tell him.

For a moment, his heart pounds, blood rushing in his ears as various scenarios fill his mind. Wild. Crazy. Bullshit. Steve swallows as the sinking in his gut coils around insides, his heart frantic over what Billy’d been trying to tell him.

Like maybe he’s not happy.

With Steve.

Releasing the air in lungs, Steve braces himself for the metaphorical punch. Thinks he’s overreacting, doesn’t actually know for sure. But he can feel the tears at the corner of his eyes, the overwhelming uncertainty that lies ahead of him.

With what courage he can, Steve gathers himself and steps toward the door. The floorboard gives a creak, and there’s hushed voices just out of reach until Steve rounds the threshold. Like little electrical pulses, his nerves spike, coursing through his veins too quickly. It’s not the anxiety that comes with the Upside Down. It’s more panic, the edges of his vision fraying as he steadies himself and takes in the other body standing before Billy.

It’s the socks he sees first, white with black lines. Then the jeans, different and well, very _different_. A shirt too clean, and then Steve says, “Who is thi-” before the words die.

They die right there at the back of his throat because Steve meets familiar blue eyes. So fucking blue he’d recognize them anywhere, but these. They’re void of lingering pain, of soft, stretched crows feet, filled with eagerness and delight, recognition in a way that Steve isn’t familiar with.

“Is this him?” the boy says, because that’s what he is to Steve. Just young yet so familiar.

“Can it. You have no speaking rights,” says Billy. Steve’s Billy.

Because there are two, and that doesn’t make sense.

“I-” but again, words fail. They fail so familiarly, Steve almost thinks he’s back in school in front of the class having to give a speech. He can’t fucking breathe either as he shifts his gaze back and forth between someone he loves and someone he’s never met in his life. “Billy?”

“Need you to breathe for me, baby.” He tries to come closer, but Steve doesn’t let him, taking a step back and holds out a hand. The gesture hurts Billy; he knows it does, but he needs a minute. An hour? Maybe more? “I’m gonna go sit down, and I want you to give me ten minutes before you come get me.” Billy tries to protest, but Steve shakes his head, “No, ten _fucking_ minutes.”

As Steve turns to leave, he hears the snort, the amusement drift from Billy’s twin. “He’s got you so fucking whipped, man.”

It’s met with a whack and an _ow_ to follow.


End file.
